Agents On A Plane
by sugar1621
Summary: Or the time Donald Ressler met Elizabeth Keen on an eight-hour flight from London to New York. Told in ten parts.
1. Takeoff

**A/N: In the middle of writing my other fics this idea suddenly came to me and I don't even know why, and then this happened. It will be told in 10 parts (takeoff, the 8 hours on the plane, and the arrival), each hour alternating between Don and Liz's POV, and there will be a lot of fluff. Not really AU, but a completely different retelling of how Liz and Ressler first met. I will definitely continue my other fics, but I plan on focusing on this one for a while :)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the writing. Everything else belongs to NBC.**

* * *

Takeoff

* * *

"Excuse me, sorry, thank you." Don Ressler sighed as he attempted to weave his way through the large group of family travellers past the security checkpoint. He was a stickler for being early to everything from work to doctor's appointments and didn't want one bad experience to ruin his perfect record. He was an FBI agent, after all.

(An _off-duty_ FBI agent this week, of course.)

After all, the past week had went by rather hellish-ly and Don didn't want things to get any worse.

He had just completed eight days in London, England visiting his older brother Stephen (or Steve, as Steve himself preferred to be called) and his wife Jennifer, along with his parents, who were also visiting.

And let's just say that Don wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed family reunions/visits halfway across the world.

First off, his family wasn't the easiest bunch to deal with. Don't get him wrong, he loved his brother and his parents very much, he'd just rather not spend more than seven days in a row with them (this is why that did these family visits _once a year_ ). Steve and Don were once quite close, but when Steve got married and had a baby boy (who is now nine years old and is still _treated_ like a baby) and Don got a job as an FBI special agent they didn't keep in touch as often as both of them became preoccupied with their own personal lives. But it had been two years since they had last met face-to-face and Don figured he might as well accept the invitation to visit, otherwise his parents (more specifically his _mother_ ) would not be pleased.

His mother. _Dear god_.

He loved his parents very much though; he and his father had reached an understanding of one another even though during Don's childhood his father was mostly absent (he was a cop), but his mother. . . that was another story altogether.

Don's mother was determined that her son find a girlfriend, especially this year in particular. She clearly didn't care what _kind_ of girl Don would bring home, she just wanted him to _have_ a girl to bring home. She wouldn't let it go; she would talk about it to Don just about day they were there, continually pointing out that his brother had already gotten married at age twenty-five (Don was thirty-three now).

But so far, each yearly visit to London he had arrived single. No (steady) girlfriend to bring home to his mother so it can just shut her up. He had flings every now and then but none of them lasted to Christmastime or the family reunion. Don couldn't help it though; his life as an FBI agent was just too busy to allow any time for committing to a serious relationship.

So, he was single. He had been single for several years.

It _did_ bother him a bit (not as much as it bothered his mother, it seemed), being girlfriendless, but his work took his mind off of it all, and that was that.

But the main reason that Don hated the visit was because of the plane ride.

Eight hours stuck in a metal tube 20,000 feet in the air sitting next to obnoxious passengers, crying babies, eating unappetizing food and sitting in the same spot for a long time feeling uncomfortable, it all bothered Don (sometimes he found himself worrying irrationally about plane crashes and disasters up in the air. He shouldn't worry, he knew that, but he just couldn't help himself. Air travel was scary). He did his best to avoid flying, but sometimes his job required him taking some form of air travel. Don didn't mind _those_ flights as much, but when he was off-duty and flying economy (because that was all he could really afford) every Christmas, he despised it. He wished he could just close his eyes and sleep through all the eight hours, but sleeping on a plane never seemed to work out for him.

So here he was, walking down the endless terminals of London Heathrow Airport until he could finally locate his gate, still not in the greatest mood after thinking about the next eight hours ahead of him.

Glancing down at his ticket and reading where his gate was, Don then realized that he was walking in the wrong direction. Swearing under his breath he turned back and traced his steps back, until he finally found his gate.

Don wheeled his surprisingly small and compact luggage bag next to him and sat down on one of the rows of seats close to the boarding gate and checked his watch.

Eight-thirty four am. His flight was at nine fifteen.

He was early.

Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, Don leaned back and closed his eyes, finally getting the chance to relax. The flight was on time, at the moment the waiting area wasn't overly crowded, and most of all, he was alone. It was surprisingly peaceful, after being on the move ever since four-thirty am.

After staring absentmindedly at the TVs above his head for a while, Don took out his phone (the FBI-issued one) and checked for any messages, then took out his personal one and tried to find something to do on it, but nothing piqued his attention at that moment.

So then Don waited. And waited. The gate started to fill up as each minute passed with more people and at one point Don had to move a seat over so that same family he had bumped into earlier could sit ( _Great_ , Don thought, _they're on this flight?_ ).

He had to admit, he was getting bored. Maybe he was missing his family's company?

Don scoffed to himself at the notion. _Yeah right. How could I miss my mother's constant 'you have no girlfriend' talk?_

And fortunately soon enough, it was time to board. Don was eager to find his seat but as always, the business class passengers were boarded first.

Finally, when the economy class passengers were called up to board, Don almost jumped up, grabbed his luggage, and made his way to the front of the line before anyone else could.

The flight attendant greeted him with a curt nod and checked his boarding pass, then glanced back up at him again with a miffed look on her face. "Sir, your seat is in the _front_ of the plane. We're calling the passengers in the _back_ of the plane."

Another reason why Don hated flying economy. Waiting for your time to board if you sat in the front of the plane.

"Oh, uh, sorry." Don grumbled, hastily making his way to the back of the line not wanting to argue. How could he be so down on his luck today?

When they got to him, nearly all of the passengers had boarded, and he was getting quite annoyed to be honest.

"Thank you sir, have a pleasant flight." The same flight attendant from earlier gave Don a wary look as she scanned his boarding pass and let him pass through the doors.

Don rushed through the jetbridge (or walkway, whatever they called it) until he reached the doors to the plane and showed his boarding pass to the two flight attendants standing by, and put a hand through his blond hair.

"This way, sir." one of the flight attendants smiled and motioned to the right of the cabin. Don gave her an uptight smile that looked more like a grimace in return and walked slowly down the cramped aisle way of the plane, rolling his luggage bag behind him and hoping that he didn't roll over anyone's foot.

His seat was only five rows from the front, which was certainly a cut above from his seat on the way to London a week ago, when he was sitting by the washrooms next to a snoring businessman.

But this time, fortunately there was nobody there and he had dibs on the window seat. Don eagerly put his luggage in the overhead compartment and took his seat by the window.

Maybe nobody booked the seat next to him and he'd get to stretch out a bit? _That would be great._

He couldn't help but feel a little happy that at least one thing was going well that morning.

But then.

 _Oh._

There was a brunette woman standing in the aisle facing him, holding a heavy-looking suitcase in her arms.

"Oh, my god, sorry." Don quickly snapped back to reality and focused all of his attention on the girl in front of him, standing up and swiftly hitting his head on the ceiling.. "Do you need help with that?"

"Oh, yeah, that would be nice, thanks." the girl said quickly, flashing him a sweet smile.

 _Yeah, she's cute._ Don was thinking, trying not to get distracted as he took note of her good looks. _And she seems nice enough. Please tell me she's the one who will be sitting in the seat next to me, not some creepy old guy._

He took her suitcase and loaded it up in the overhead compartment, not caring that he was holding up a few other annoyed passengers, then moved back into his seat so she could sit down.

"Thank you so much, seriously, thank you." she smiled again, moving in and sitting down next to Don ( _Yes_. Don thought. _Thank you_.).

"No problem." he smiled in return, trying to get comfortable without looking stupid in front of her (if not looking stupid doing everyday things was possible for Don).

"I was supposed to sit in the middle, across from here. But some guy was already sitting there, and I really didn't feel like picking a fight today." she explained, motioning to the occupied seats across from them. "And plus you seemed like a better traveling partner than him."

Don laughed a bit, glancing at the snoring man sitting across from them and thanked his lucky stars he was sitting next to this woman instead _that_ man.

"Um, oh yeah, I should probably introduce myself." Don quickly added as she was getting set up. "After all, you're going to be stuck with me for the next eight hours so, uh, I'm Don. Nice to meet you."

He extended his hand, which she shook, and he could have sworn she was _blushing_. (Don's never made a girl _blush_ before). "Liz. Nice to meet you too, Don."

They kept their gazes on each other for a moment longer, then awkwardly looked away, Don out the window and Liz into the aisle.

A few more silent minutes passed as everybody was seated until the cabin crew made their safety announcement and demonstration ("I try not to worry about this," Liz informed Don. "I take note of the information but air travel disasters are uncommon and these are just precautions." Don had nodded in response and tried to agree with Liz's words although he was at times quite paranoid about air travel.).

Soon the cabin crew took their seats then the plane started to move, making its way gradually down the runway, and Don could feel his nerves rise by each passing second.

Lift-off was always the hardest part. Don hated it the most; he didn't like the feeling of when the plane slanted upwards as it got higher and higher (he never once considered becoming a pilot) because it really made him sick to his stomach. At the moment he hoped more than ever that he wouldn't throw up on this plane ride, especially not in front of this sweet (and pretty) young woman sitting beside him. Most of the people who have sat beside him were never this nice and friendly (and normal), and he didn't want to blow it with her.

Don looked out the window and noticed that they were next to lift off. His palms became clammy and he started to breathe shallow and fast.

 _Take a deep breath. Breathe in and out. In and out. This has happened before, you can do it, you can calm down._ Don thought, really hoping that Liz wasn't watching his internal freak-out..

But to his embarrassment, Liz had already noticed and was staring at him with a concerned look. "You okay, Don?"

"Oh, yeah." he lied, plastering a fake smile on his face and releasing his death grip on the armrests. "Just, you know, jitters."

"Oh." Liz nodded sympathetically, sitting straighter in her chair. "This guy I knew, he had a really bad fear of heights _and_ claustrophobia, you can only imagine how he reacted whenever we went on a plane. He was a elementary school teacher and never traveled anywhere, he wasn't used to flying."

"That must have been horrible." Don answered as lightheartedly as he could, knowing that Liz was only trying to make him feel better although right now he was anything but calm at the moment.

"That's also why our relationship ended when it did." he heard Liz mutter under her breath.

 _Oh._ Don thought. _She has an ex-boyfriend._

Just then, the plane started to accelerate and Don was pushed roughly back into his seat, making his stomach lurch.

 _Deep breaths. In and out._

"Don," Liz said calmly, leaning towards him. "it's going to be fine."

He focused on Liz's voice through the noisy sounds of the engines and then, just like that, the plane lifted off the ground.

Liz patted Don's hand comfortingly for a moment. "It's alright."

Don exhaled slowly and smiled at Liz in thanks, the fear subsiding as they ascended higher and higher up into the air.

 _Thank goodness she's here._ he thought to himself, starting to calm down and that sick feeling in his stomach subsiding. _Otherwise I'd be full-out panicking and making a scene._

Soon enough the plane reached cruising altitude and the flight attendants come around with headphones and blankets.

"See?" Liz smiled, looking genuinely happy. "You did it! You're fine!"

"Thank you. For helping me." Don said gratefully, although he was still reeling from the past six minutes, _and_ the fact that a stranger had just helped him get through the part he feared most in a plane ride.

He's never met a stranger _that_ nice.

"You're welcome." Liz grinned, handing Don a set of headphones from the flight attendant in the aisle before getting a set for herself. "Although I didn't really do anything. It was all you."

"Yeah, well you helped me through it. Nobody's ever done that."

"Oh, you travel alone most of the time?"

"Yeah. But sometimes I fly with my colleagues when on my job. They aren't as friendly traveling partners as you are, but flying with them certainly beats flying alone. It's just more nerve-wracking."

"Well I'm glad that I could help. It's nice to have someone to talk to, I hate traveling alone as well." Liz responded brightly. "And just out of curiosity, what do you do? Like, what job do you have that requires all that flying?"

Don hesitated. As an FBI agent, he was told not to volunteer that kind of information, but, _oh well_ , she didn't look like she could do anything bad with that information, she's so sweet. . .

"FBI." He blurted out without another thought. "I work for the FBI."

At first Liz's eyes widened, in shock, or _fear_ , and yeah, Don knew he scared her off-

"Me too."

"Huh?"

"I work for the FBI as well." Liz shook her head in disbelief. "I'm based in D.C. You?"

"Same!" Don couldn't believe it either. What were the odds? "I'm a special agent."

"I'm a profiler. Graduated Quantico six months ago. How is it that we never met?" She laughed a bit, leaning towards Don.

 _Yeah, how come we haven't met before?_

"D.C.'s a big place." Don said jokingly, and Liz laughed again.

"True, true. I'm not on the job, though. Visiting my friend for the holidays, she lives in London."

"Oh." Don was reluctant to share the reason why _he_ was in London, but did anyway. "Yeah, I was visiting family."

"That's really cool." Liz grinned, reclining her seat a bit. "Well, it's reassuring to know that I'm sitting next to an FBI special agent, and also a super nice guy. I'll be safe."

Don blushed. "Thank you. It's also reassuring for me that I'm sitting next to a super nice and attractive FBI profiler for eight hours. I'll be okay too." His face turned even more redder once he finished his sentence, regretting what he just said. _Damn, you've just met this girl and she's doing this to you. Stop flirting!_

Liz shook her head, although she was smiling. "Oh my gosh, Don, you're honestly too kind for your own good."

As she turned around to fix her pillow, Don couldn't stop smiling.

Maybe the next eight hours won't be as bad as he thought.


	2. Hour One

**A/N: Thank you for all the support! You guys are awesome!**

* * *

Hour One

* * *

Liz watched as Don stared out the window into the bright sunlight, probably trying to look down to see if he could spot any land from where they were.

He seemed like a really sweet guy, although somewhat 'socially challenged' (that was a label she stuck on her colleague friend Aram from the FBI, a similarly sweet but awkward young man).

Not to mention that he was also quite handsome.

Neat gelled-back blond hair, blue eyes, _yeah_ , she would admit he was attractive. Liz even found herself wondering if the guy had a girlfriend, or maybe even a wife.

But what was she thinking? She was fresh off her breakup with Tom, a guy who she thought was nice but turned out to be quite self-centered and overconfident (she learnt this gradually after months and months of fighting. He _refused_ to accompany her on her flight to London just a week and a half ago, which lead to plenty more arguments than usual _and_ the inevitable breakup). Dating shouldn't be the first thing on her mind at the moment.

Just then, a nice-looking flight attendant arrived with a cart carrying an assortment of beverages and snacks and offered them to Liz, who decided on a cup of juice.

The flight attendant offered Don as well, but he didn't answer. He was still staring out the window.

Liz stifled a laugh and got his attention by nudging him. "Don."

"Oh, sorry." Don turned around and sheepishly sat up so he could face the flight attendant.

"Would you like anything to drink or eat, sir?" she repeated patiently while handing Liz her glass of orange juice.

"Uh, sorry, just water, that'd be good, thanks." Don said quickly while scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably, his face reddening and Liz tried again not to laugh at this guy's adorable awkwardness.

The flight attendant handed him a cup of water and a napkin, then moved on.

He gingerly took a sip of the water, but stopped after noticing Liz's lingering gaze. "What?"

She giggled, covering her mouth with her napkin. "Nothing."

"Okay, seriously." Don snickered. "When someone laughs at me it isn't 'nothing'."

"It's just," Liz could barely get the words out. "you're _adorable_."

Don blinked like the word was foreign to him as Liz continued to watch him with a playful gaze, her eyes twinkling and a small smile playing on her lips.

"You're probably the most unique stranger I've ever met and the nicest one I've ever clicked with," Liz continued lightly, leaning her head on her arm that was rested on the armrest. "I mean, you're the first FBI agent I met while not on the job, and what are the odds for that, right? You're a gentleman because you helped me put my bag up into the overhead compartment, and trust me, nobody's ever offered to help me with that before. You're so cute because you're just so socially awkward and you're trying not to be." She noticed his change of facial expression, then quickly added, "I mean that in a good way. I'm sorry, I'm a profiler, I look into everything way too much."

"No, no," Don shook his head, brushing it off although he was blushing. "It's really no problem, I guess I should say thank you. I mean, a profiler just profiled me, she's probably being accurate if she profiles people for a living."

Liz laughed again. This FBI agent was really something. _In a good way._

 _He looks like he's been through so much, I've got to make the guy feel better._

"Alright fine, Don." Liz began, wanting to strike up more conversation with her traveling partner. She also couldn't help it; her adoptive father Sam was, like Liz, quite the conversationalist and loved to get to know people. "How would _you_ profile _me_?"

"I-I wouldn't know, I'm not a profiler-"

"Oh come on, Don. I've only spent forty-five minutes on this plane with you and I can tell that you _need_ to let loose." It was true; the poor guy needed to have some fun after being so uptight on a plane ride.

"Okay, uh. . ." Don stammered as Liz grinned to herself; she knew she was getting to him. "Well, you're helpful, you're friendly, you're sweet, you're certainly a better travel buddy compared to _that guy_ who was supposed to sit here. I don't think he'd be that willing to help me get over travel anxiety." He motioned down the aisle to the still-sleeping man sitting in Liz's original seat.

Liz glanced at him and scoffed. "He'd probably snap at you for waking him up."

Don laughed genuinely. "He would, yeah."

Suddenly the plane shook and created ripples in their drinks. Caught by surprise, Don clung on to his seat for dear life, and shut his eyes.

Liz immediately noticed and tried to help Don ignore it. "It's just a little turbulence, we probably are passing through a cloud right now."

"That sounds sort of freaky." Don muttered through gritted teeth, immediately shutting the window.

"Come on, Agent, you can toughen up." Liz teased good-naturedly, looking at him carefully. "It's just a plane. I'm sure you've dealt with worse bad guys and situations compared to this, you have it in you, it's okay."

"Okay, deep breaths, I'm fine, I'm fine." Don repeated, mostly to himself, and this time Liz could see the change in his demeanor as he gradually calmed himself down with each and every breath. By then the plane had made it through the worse of it and they were cruising smoothly again.

"See? You're getting better at it." Liz couldn't help but feel proud of Don. "Most people I know with that kind of fear would probably pass out right there and then. You're a big guy." she added jokingly.

Don rolled his eyes although there was a big smile on his face. "My mother would disagree."

"Your mother?"

"You probably wouldn't want to meet her." Don seemed to shudder at the thought. "She's. . . _something_. Maybe not in a good way, though."

"Oh." Liz raised an eyebrow.

"She's, uh, _determined_ that I find a girlfriend. And since I haven't found one to present to her yet, she believes it's because I'm not 'manly' enough." He hung his head in shame, and Liz was taken aback.

"You're not 'manly' enough? Seriously, does being an FBI _field agent_ not do it for her? Well, I think you're as manly as any man could be." As far as Liz was concerned, she found Don very much manly and macho, complete boyfriend material for any girl.

 _Even for her._ Yet another thought about being romantically involved with Don (a complete _stranger_ , what was wrong with her?) crossed Liz's mind.

"Thank you." Don said, clearly happy that at least _someone_ disagreed with his mother. "She was actually the one I was visiting. Well, her and my dad and my brother. It's an annual Christmas family tradition. My brother lives in London, he's married and has a kid, he's also the reason why my mom's hell-bent on me getting a girlfriend."

Liz blinked in surprise. "So just because your brother had kids, your mother wants you to have kids as well?"

Don tilted his head, taking in what Liz had just said. "Basically, yeah. She _loves_ my nephew. She wants more grandchildren. It's because she always wanted more than two children. But by the time she had decided this, it was too late. She was too old. Which is why, for some weird reason, she wants as many grandchildren as possible, and therefore, she wants me to get a girlfriend."

"Wow. That's. . . _complicated_." It took Liz a while to register all this. She didn't remember her family being that dysfunctional; it was always just Sam and her, no complications or pressures about being married and having children. Sam was always supportive of her decisions; from moving out to her ending her relationship with Tom.

"That's an understatement. It happens every year." Don closed his eyes in annoyance. "But, enough about me. What were you doing in London?"

"Oh, I was visiting a friend." Liz explained. She was truthfully enjoying this. It was great to have a seat mate this nice, but it was even better to have a nice seat mate who _listened_ to her stories. Most just ignored her. "She's lived in London for years. She's been my best friend ever since kindergarten, but she moved away when she was six. We kept in touch, though. I visit her every other year, around the same time. She's a good friend. But her mother, oh, don't get me started on her mother. She sounds exactly like yours. See, there was one time when. . ."

Liz continued expressively, and Don continued to listen intently, adding something in every now and then.

The first hour went by quicker and better than either of them had initially thought.

And they both figured that, as long as they were in each other's company, the seven other hours that lay ahead wouldn't be that bad either.


	3. Hour Two

Hour Two

* * *

"Seriously?" Don heard Liz mutter irritably to herself beside him. They had just finished discussing each other's personal and work lives for the good part of an hour and Don had learnt a lot about Liz; unlike Don, she was an only child ( _lucky her_ ) but grew up with an adoptive father and was raised in Baltimore, and similar to Don, she had always dreamed of joining the FBI (except she was a profiler instead of a field agent like Don was). She had field training but had only been out a few times. They both had shared horror stories about days when their jobs weren't going so well, and Don discovered that he had way more in common with Liz that he had initially thought (judging from the stories that she told, they were both quite clumsy).

"You okay?" he asked after turning away from the window and watched as she bent down, seemingly searching for something or trying to change something with her seat.

"What?" Liz glanced up for a moment at him before looking back down and continuing to fix her seat. "Oh yeah, I'm fine, it's just my seat. It - ugh, won't - recline!"

She sat up again and leaned back, closing her eyes in frustration.

"Oh." Don pursed his lips, trying to think of something that could help Liz. He felt sorry for her and could relate; during last year's flight to London the seat in front of his was jammed into a reclined position, leaving Don trapped for seven of the eight hours he was on that plane (the passenger in front of him hadn't reclined his seat for the first sixty minutes of the flight).

"For the first hour it wasn't as bad, but now I'm getting kind of cramped up and want to stretch my legs." A sudden jolt from behind Liz made her jump a little, and both of them took a quick glance behind them and saw a toddler standing in front of his seat and purposely kicking and punching her seat with a mischievous grin on his face. "And to add to all of that, there's now a little kid kicking the back of my seat." She shook her head, sighing in exasperation.

Don thought for another moment, glancing around their little area. What could he do to help?

"But I guess I shouldn't be complaining." Liz continued although by then Don had tuned out, stopping in the middle of her sentence to close her eyes in frustration as her seat was kicked once again. "You're a field agent. I'm sure you've been through much worse. God, I'm sorry, Don, you probably hate sitting next to me now, don't you? I'm acting too stuck-up. Even my friends say I talk too much-"

"No, Liz, there's no need to apologize. Believe me, you're probably the best person I've ever sat next to on a plane." Don intercepted quickly before Liz could get too carried away in beating herself down. "But have you tried pushing the lever down harder?"

With a baffled expression Liz followed Don as he bent over to show her the lever to the bottom left of her seat. "Maybe if you use more force on it the seat would recline."

"Trust me, it's jammed," Liz frowned, pushing down on it one more time but with no luck. Yet another kick came from behind her and she groaned inwardly.

 _Hold on. . ._ Don thought to himself as he observed her. _Maybe she's doing it wrong. . ._

"Here, let me try, I got this." Don pushed the armrest up that was separating their seats from each other and grabbed ahold of the metal lever below, then pulled it up instead.

Liz's seat instantly reclined, a bit too far than they had wanted it to, and at the same time, bumped the little toddler who was standing behind it.

"Oh, shoot, we're so sorry." Ressler quickly apologized, exchanging a look with Liz, who was trying to hold in her laughter.

"Watch it next time! You could have seriously injured my son!" snapped the toddler's mother angrily, who was now giving her (completely unhurt) son a hug in her lap.

 _Maybe_ you _should be watching your own son_.

Don glanced at Liz, who seemed to be thinking exactly what he was thinking because she was staring right back at him with a knowing glint in her eye, then added, "Okay, ma'am, we will, but maybe it would have never happened if your son wasn't standing up and kicking the back of her chair in the first place. So with all due respect, maybe _you_ should watch it."

Before the horrified woman could even open her mouth to object, both Liz and Don turned back around, holding back their laughter.

Quickly de-reclining her chair back into its seating position a little bit, Liz burst into a fit of unceremonious laughter. "That was hilarious! I mean, the first part with me being a complete idiot and not knowing how to recline a chair, but that lady! Did you see her face?"

Liz did a spot-on impression of the furious mom behind them and Don covered his face in his hands, trying to control his laughter but failing miserably.

 _Hopefully that woman can't hear us right now._ Don thought. _She'd probably hate us even more than she already does. It's pretty unlikely though, the engines are too noisy._

 _But if we continue to laugh at this volume, she might._

Don didn't mind it though. This was the first time he genuinely had a good laugh ever since he visited his awkward and uncomfortable family, and it surprised him that he was sharing it with a stranger.

Not that he cared about the 'stranger' part anymore.

"Okay, okay," Liz snickered, finally getting ahold of herself and quieting down a fair bit. "But seriously, you schooled that lady, Don! I take back what I said about you being socially awkward and stuff, you're totally smooth and can smart-talk better than anyone I know!"

Don blushed at all of her compliments, but took it in jest and jokingly said, "Well what can I say, having those traits is how I land the ladies and sweep them off their feet. Not."

Liz burst out laughing uncontrollably again, this time causing the mother behind them to actually stand up and see what was going on, who sat back down once both of them had wheeled around. "Oh my gosh, you're seriously awesome, Donald Ressler, don't ever change. You sweep _me_ off my feet."

 _What? Did she actually just say that? Did she actually?_

He couldn't help thinking like a junior high-aged boy with a crush on one of his female classmates, but this Liz was really getting to him. If _he_ was sweeping _her_ off her feet, then _she_ was making _him_ blush like an infatuated schoolboy.

Just then, another kick came from behind Liz's half-reclined seat. Both of them turned around and there he was; the toddler sitting back in his original seat, a naughty grin on his face.

Liz was looking as if she wanted to kill herself, resting her head on the headrest with her eyes closed, trying to shut everything out.

 _Poor Liz. What can I do?_

And then Don had an idea.

"Liz. Move over for a sec." he said . Liz looked up, her expression weary. She looked confused, so Don repeated himself.

"Move into the aisle for a second. You can have my seat."

Her eyes widened. "Don, you really don't have to, he's gonna-"

"No, Liz, really, it's fine. You can have my seat. Didn't you say you loved window seats?"

Don, for a fact, loved window seats because he could get a clear view of the skies (but he would never look down at the ground when it was visible. It would be too daunting.), but he didn't mind giving it to Liz. She seemed worth it.

"A-Alright." Liz skeptically moved into the aisle so Don could get through, then shifted down into Don's seat. "Thank you, Don. Really. But that kid's going to bug you for the rest of the trip."

"Let him." Don answered back without any hesitance as he sat down in Liz's spot. "Kids will be kids. I'll deal with him if I have to." He glanced behind at the toddler who sent him another mischievous look, which Don returned with a knowing smile. The little boy laughed and sat back into his seat.

"Besides," Don sat back into his chair, crossing his arms on his chest. "I think we're on the same page."

"Hey! Are you saying that it's because that kid has a problem with _me_? I can be a kid person too!" Liz shook her head in disbelief, grinning. "But honestly, thank you, Don. You're an impossibly kind stranger."

Don smiled in response, and reached for the armrest to pull it back down but accidentally ended up putting his hand on top of Liz's.

 _Oh._

He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest, and he felt giddy and light all of a sudden.

 _Like an infatuated schoolboy._

 _Calm yourself, Ressler. You're in your thirties, you're not a teenager anymore._

They awkwardly laughed and avoided each other's looks like lovestruck schoolchildren until Don finally removed his hand from under Liz's, who pushed the armrest back down.

"I, uh, was just going to put that down, but, you, um, you could. Sorry." Don continued unsurely, realizing that with every word things became even more awkward.

Liz just smiled knowingly and turned back to the window.

Don breathed out and leaned his head against the headrest, processing what just happened.

She was certainly making him feel _something_ , there was no denying that.

He just wondered if she felt the same way about him.


	4. Hour Three

**A/N: Apologies for the delay for this chapter! This is a longer one though, so hopefully it makes up for it! Thanks as always for the support, hope you like this one!**

* * *

Hour Three

* * *

Gosh, this Agent Donald Ressler was really the perfect guy, wasn't he?

Liz just couldn't stop thinking about him as she leaned by the window staring at the clouds in the clear blue sky.

She turned around to take a look at Don, who was didn't notice her as he was cluelessly reading the plane safety card, and couldn't wipe the dreamy, smitten look on her face.

 _He's just the sweetest gentleman, letting me have his seat and all,_ and _he's a kid person. . . not to mention he's super handsome_ and _a fellow FBI agent so we could still meet when we get back home. . . he's totally like my dream guy. . . maybe he is. . ._

Liz wasn't even stopping herself from swooning and having these irrational fantasies over this newfound acquaintance.

 _Maybe it's the side effects of being fresh-off a break-up with a long-term partner, having an out-of-hand infatuation with an attractive stranger,_ she tried to convince herself, but it wasn't working.

 _Or maybe you really are in love with a stranger,_ Liz smirked to herself and turned back to the window. _You're crazy enough to be that way, Elizabeth Keen, even Dad wouldn't be surprised. He would tell he always saw it coming._

Liz closed her eyes, feeling content and relaxed for the first time since she had left for the airport that morning. It was a fun week visiting Katie and they had done a lot of sightseeing, but to be completely honest it tired her out a little. She nearly drifted off on the car ride to the airport.

And fortunately now she was finally getting the chance to take a light snooze. . .

" _May I have your attention please ladies and gentlemen, we would just like to let you know that our duty-free inflight store will now be. . ."_ the pleasant voice of one of the flight attendants over the speakers jolted Liz awake as she was just about to doze off. Even the seat-kicker boy had quieted down and fallen asleep, and she couldn't.

"Can't ever sleep on a plane," she grumbled to herself as she fixed her pillow and turned her back to Don again.

"You okay?" Don asked, concerned.

She turned her head around. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, really, that's all. Like most people, I can't ever sleep on a plane. It's frustrating. Too many distractions."

Don shook his head in agreement. "Tell me about it. I'm even more exhausted when I land compared to when I board."

Just then, a young blonde female flight attendant appeared seemingly out of nowhere at their side. "Hi sir, you called, is there anything I can get for you?"

Don and Liz exchanged a puzzled look. Neither of them had pressed the button to call a flight attendant. _That's strange. . ._

"Uh, we're good, thanks." Don answered skeptically, forcing a smile to the perky flight attendant.

"Oh." she answered dejectedly, looking slightly disappointed. "Alright. Well, call me if you need me, sir, I'll be more than happy to help." And with that, she turned away on her heel, looking longingly over her shoulder at Don one more time before focusing her attention on another passenger.

"Well, uh," Don shrugged as he turned back to the front, glancing over at the flight attendant once more, who was still sneaking secretive glances in his direction. "that was weird."

"Yeah." Liz was puzzled as well. _What was she doing?_

Then it clicked.

It took a moment before it all made sense to her.

Liz couldn't help but laugh at the entire situation. It was quite funny, to be honest.

The flight attendant was hitting on Don

 _She was hitting on him._

This is _hilarious._

Liz wasn't sure if Don had understood what had just happened. And judging by his clueless expression as he continued to stare off at the flight attendant, he probably didn't.

"I'm sorry, Don. But you seriously didn't get that?" Liz couldn't control her laughter anymore and burst out giggling.

Don blinked, clearly still not getting the idea. "Get what?"

"That flight attendant," Liz reached over Don to point at the blonde stewardess who was shooting yet another suggestive look in their direction. "she's hitting on you, Don."

Don looked at Liz in surprise. "Really? No, she wasn't."

"I swear, Don, she's totally hitting on you. See?" Liz pointed the flight attendant out once again. "She's staring at you again! She literally looks over here every five seconds! She came over to talk to you, don't you get it? I'm not even kidding, look at her, she's doing it now!"

Don craned his neck to get a better look at the flight attendant, then glanced back at Liz, blushing. "I guess she is."

Liz raised her eyebrows playfully. "And you like that?"

"I don't know." Don grinned sheepishly, still looking surprised at the fact that he just got hit on. "I guess most guys would like to be hit on by attractive flight attendants."

 _Wait. . . what?_ Liz blinked skeptically. _Is he actually. . . enjoying this?_

 _And did he just call her 'attractive'?_

Although she wouldn't freely admit it to herself, Liz felt a twinge of jealousy as she watched the lustful exchange between the pretty flight attendant and a still incredulous-looking Don at the fact that this random stewardess could get Don's attention that fast.

 _Is he into her? Is she better looking than me?_

 _Stop it. It's his life, he can do what he wants. He's a stranger you just met, why are you_ jealous _?_ Liz scoffed in spite of herself. She was becoming irrational now, that was for sure. Liz had to continuously remind herself that she had just met Don _a few hours ago_. Besides, Don was handsome and he could certainly attract female attention.

But he was definitely making her feel _something_ , otherwise she wouldn't be acting this unreasonable.

"Hi, what can I get you now, sir?" a familiar sweet voice jolted Liz out of her thoughts.

And of course, it was the flight attendant, looking very pleased with herself.

Before Don could even open his mouth he was abruptly cut off by the flight attendant. "I know you never called, but you look like you need a refreshment, so I can get you whatever you want."

"Um, uh," Don stammered, looking over at Liz as if for permission. She quickly nodded and forced a smile, although she would rather have the borderline-flirtatious flight attendant leave for good.

"Sure. Water, that would be nice." Don smiled up at the beaming flight attendant, and Liz swore she could see sparks fly.

 _Maybe if you could go away, that would be nice._

Liz was not liking her at all. She never really liked girls who were overly flirtatious and downright annoying, no matter who they had set their sights on.

"No problem, I'll be right back." She twirled her blonde ponytail in her hand and walked away happily.

"Okay, if I can be blatantly honest here," Liz began the minute the flight attendant had disappeared before she could even stop herself. " _she_ is the most persistent girl I have ever seen. She's practically throwing herself at you."

"I think she's a perfectly nice flight attendant." Don said casually, clearly not taking this all too seriously. "I mean, she did offer me water and I _am_ sort of thirsty."

 _God,_ Liz thought, _he's so cluelessly adorable, isn't he? He obviously has the intellect to be an FBI agent but he can't tell when a girl is being overly flirtatious!_

She was not getting the nicest vibes from the flight attendant, who was now arriving at their seats with a glass of water and a napkin.

"Thanks." Don said gratefully, taking a sip of his water.

Liz rolled her eyes, and tried to ignore the flight attendant's obnoxiously cute exchange with Don, until after another thirty seconds, realized that the flight attendant was still standing there expectantly.

By then Don had finished his glass of water, and was also glancing up at the flight attendant with confusion.

The flight attendant's eyes darted down to the napkin then back up at Don, trying to send a message.

"Oh." Don nodded, and the flight attendant batted her eyelashes at him then scurried away.

Liz narrowed her eyes. What could she want now?

Don unfolded the napkin and inside was the flight attendant's name; Natalie, and her phone number.

 _Of course. Seriously?_

"I told you! She's one-hundred percent into you!" Liz nudged Don in jest although she was quite irritated with this Natalie and her antics (that woman had the nerve to act like Liz wasn't even there!).

"Wow." Don muttered although he had a small smile on his face. "But isn't this against the rules for flight attendants?"

Liz smirked. "I'm sure she crossed that line the moment she made eye contact with you. Just kidding."

Don laughed. "Well. That was something." He shoved the napkin aside.

Liz blinked. "You're not going to call her?"

Don shook his head, grinning a bit as he looked at Liz. "Nah. I mean, she seemed sweet enough and all, but I don't think it would ever work out. We would never make time for ourselves with our jobs always in the way. Besides, if I ever get a girlfriend and my mother dies of shock, I want our relationship to be long-term. I want us both to feel _something_ , you know? I don't want it to just be some random hook-up, or some relationship where there's like nothing there."

"I would want that too." Liz nodded, taking in what Don had just said.

 _Which was totally romantic. And totally true._

"And sometimes," Don continued carefully. "I just wonder. . . if all that stupid romance soulmate crap people always talk about is true. . . where would we ever meet that person?"

"Yeah, I've wondered that too." Liz answered mindlessly as she stared at him in awe. Who knew this FBI agent was so well-thought about romance?

"Gosh, I'm sorry." Don abruptly stopped himself, sitting back up and shaking his head at himself. "I'm boring you, aren't I? All this dumb philosophical romance crap, you must be falling asleep."

"No, no, no. Girls are actually into that sort of thing, when guys are romantic. It's fine." It was true; as corny as it was, Liz always admired a man who had a romantic side, even without them realizing it.

"Oh." Don grinned. "That's good."

Just then, to both Don and Liz's dismay, Natalie the flight attendant arrived back again, this time with a tray full of food.

And before either Natalie could open her mouth Don said, "I think we're good."

Liz gaped at him in shock, not expecting that he would be so blunt with the flight attendant.

"Oh. Um, okay." obviously hurt and a little bit surprised by Don's rejection, Natalie the flight attendant backed up and continued down the aisle with her head hung low, sending one last longing look in Don's direction before continuing off.

"Ouch. That was pretty cold." Liz remarked, although frankly she was feeling quite happy that this Natalie was gone, most probably for good.

Don looked at Liz. "That was, wasn't it? Oh, well. I guess I'll try to ignore her for the rest of the flight. But there was really no other way to make her leave and not bother us anymore. Besides," he half-smiled knowingly. "I had a feeling she was bothering you too."

 _Yeah she was._

Liz shrugged it off, looking into Don's blue eyes with a playful smile. "No, she did what any girl would've done if they met a sweet guy like you. You're likeable, Don, you can't deny that. I mean, I like you."

Don smiled bashfully. "You really think so? Not many people have said that I'm 'likeable' before, they say I'm too 'reserved' to be-"

"Of course I do. _I_ for one like you a lot."

"I like you a lot too." He was doing that adorable half-smile again, and Liz felt her heart beat faster, making this infatuation worse than it was two hours ago.

Liz grinned, playfully smacking him lightly on the arm. "Oh my god, Don, you're such a charmer. But can you please stop being a sweetheart for just a little while and let me catch up on some sleep, if I can."

"Told you I was boring you with my romanticisms."

Liz just shook her head and laughed as she fixed her pillow and shut the window.

Don chuckled and focused his attention to the front again. "Sleep well, Liz."


	5. Hour Four

Hour Four

* * *

Two flight attendants passed by Don and Liz's seats, pushing a cart stocked with airplane food, and Don felt his mouth water and stomach rumble.

For the first time in his life, he was actually hungry for airplane food.

 _Airplane food._

He despised airplane food most of the time, hating how processed and bland it tasted after being stored away for hours in a compartment by the back of the plane, and just the general unappealing nature of the meal. Don always stayed wary of airplane food as he had quite a few bad experiences with airplane food (one having a horrible case of food poisoning after eating one airline's salad when he flew with his parents to the Bahamas on holiday as a teenager ,and another in which the coleslaw and chicken meal on one of his yearly London flights a few years back made Don sick to his stomach and the feeling just wouldn't dissipate until they landed and he vomited the moment he got off the plane), but for today he was just feeling hungry for it, and he didn't even know why.

 _All that talking, and everything else that's happened over the past few hours must have got me so distracted it made me hungry_ , he figured, although he knew that it probably wasn't the reason.

"Hey, Liz, you awake? And are you hungry?" Don nudged a supposedly sleeping Liz, who was slumped in her seat leaning against the window with her eyes closed. "I'm pretty sure the food's coming around, and if it isn't I'm asking for it and I don't want you to go hungry."

To his surprise, Liz sat upright almost immediately, looking groggy and not well-rested at all. "I'm awake. I've been awake for the past hour, actually. Couldn't even catch a wink of sleep. Clearly planes hate me just as much as I hate them because I don't think I'll ever be able to fall asleep on one." Don glanced at her again and he immediately felt sorry for her.

The slight bags under her eyes that were there before were looking more defined and her hair was looking considerably messy. She generally didn't look like she was having the greatest of times at the moment.

 _But of course, who could blame her?_ Don thought. _The poor girl's been through so much; having to deal with seat-reclining issues and a little kid kicking her seat, and worse of all, dealing with my travel anxieties that no one except for myself should have to deal with._

"Alright, well since I don't think I'll be able to sleep any time soon, you were saying something about food?" Liz yawned, rubbing her eyes and stretching a bit.

"Um, yeah." Don craned his neck to look down the crowded aisleway, but couldn't spot a flight attendant or a food cart nearby. "But I don't think they're serving it just yet."

"Oh." Liz groaned, closing her eyes. "I'm kind of hungry."

"Me too."

Just then, a flight attendant (a different one, _not_ Natalie, thank _god_ ) walked by and Don quickly stopped her. "Um, excuse me, do you know when the food will be served?"

"In about twenty minutes." she answered curtly, glancing down the aisle supposedly to the back of the plane where the galley was located.

"Alright, that shouldn't be too long then." Don replied, although his stomach growled in protest. "Thank you."

The flight attendant nodded with a brief smile then continued walking down to the back of the plane. Don turned to Liz, his expression grim. "They aren't serving dinner until twenty minutes."

Liz shrugged, turning on her side this time facing Don. "Oh, okay. Besides, airplane food tastes horrible anyway, so I'm in no rush to eat."

Don picked up the small menu brochure in his seat pocket and skimmed down the list of (unappealing) meal choices.

 _Veggie wrap._ Ew. Don had always hated snack wraps ever since he was little (his mother always made him eat them, so he blamed his mother who encouraged him to hate veggie wraps).

 _Macaroni and cheese._ Nope, not that either. Cheesy foods were never Don's thing.

 _Pasta with tomato sauce._ Maybe. Pasta wasn't necessarily that bad (as long as there wasn't too much cheese, of course) and it seemed a safe enough food choice that would hopefully keep him full for a while.

"Hm. Menu doesn't seem too bad." Liz remarked, reading the menu brochure as well. "I think I'm going to go for the cup noodles. Something bland, nothing that would make me puke or want to puke."

Don shook his head, laughing. "Yeah, that's a good choice. In fact, I might get that too."

Cup noodles seemed like the perfect choice, actually. It was something normal that didn't taste too concentrated and airplane-y.

Finally the flight attendants came around with their carts stocked up with trays of food. A miffed Natalie passed them by again but Don averted his eyes away from her. He could have sworn though, that he saw Liz glare at Natalie as she walked by.

The vibes Don was getting between Liz and Natalie weren't all that great, especially after that exchange he had with Natalie an hour ago (that was clearly making Liz uncomfortable, which was why he ended it as bluntly as he did), and he meant what he said to Liz earlier; as amusing as it was to have someone like a flight attendant flirt with him Don knew it would never work out. A long distance relationship would be too difficult to maintain with his already-busy work schedule.

 _But if you ever meet Liz again, at work. . . there's a possibility._

Don scoffed, knowing he was getting ahead of himself.

 _But still. . . there's always a possibility. . . you know what they say about soulmates. . . you'll never know where you'll find yours. . ._

He found himself back on the subject of soulmates again. Seriously, what was wrong with him today? He was an FBI agent for crying out loud, he shouldn't have time to think about that kind of crap!

Don glanced over at Liz, who was still reading the brochure. _See what you do to me, Liz?_

At that moment the flight attendants with the cart arrived and jolted Don out of his thoughts. Both Liz and Don ordered their cup noodles (Don learned that Liz liked her soup lukewarm instead of boiling hot. "I'm a klutz," she explained. "and I don't want to get burned if I accidentally spill it all on me.")and just as Don was about to rip open the packaging and begin to eat, the plane gave a sudden jolt and Liz spilled half of hers onto the tray in front of her.

"Damn it." Liz muttered under her breath, picking up the fallen cup and putting up upright on her tray. "As if being unable to sleep was not enough to make this plane ride hell."

"Oh god, uh, jeez, take these napkins." Don said, noticing quickly and handing Liz the pile of napkins he was given earlier and quickly asked the flight attendant for a cloth, who handed it to him almost immediately.

"Thank you, Don. I told you I was clumsy." Liz took the napkins and wet cloth, then preceded to dry herself and mop the tray in front of her. "Things are clearly not working in my favour right now. This is the exact reason why I don't want my soup boiling hot."

"Don't worry about it." Don answered with a reassuring smile. _Eating can wait. I should help her first._ "It's happened to me so many times as well."

"Ugh." Liz finally finished drying up her table and put the cloth down, then looked into the cup. "I spilled like half of it so all that's left is a little bit of soup and the dried-up noodles. Oh well. It'll do."

Don considered this for a moment. He looked pitifully at Liz, who was mindlessly using her chopsticks to play with the food not eating it, then back at his unopened warm cup noodles.

And then he got an idea.

"Here, Liz, take this." Don picked up his cup noodles and placed them on Liz's tray.

She looked up at him unsurely, then shook her head. "No, no, Don, it's fine, you really don't have to-"

"I want to. Take them, please. I'll order another one for myself, don't worry about me."

"It's going to take time, you said you were hungry, you've already done so much for me-"

" _Liz._ It's fine."

"Thank you, Don. Really." Liz glanced at him one more time before opening up the noodles and began to eat consciously.

Don smiled to himself, happy that he made her day just a little bit better. He called down a flight attendant and asked for the cup noodles.

"No problem sir," she responded as Liz warily looked on. "but they might take a while. We're out of them right now but there's some in the back and they need to be warmed up. We'll have it in a little bit."

"That's fine, thanks." Don forced a smile at the flight attendant, feeling even hungrier than he was earlier.

But it was worth it. For her.

"See? I'm so sorry, Don, you said you were hungry and I'm making you wait even longer." Liz burst out once the flight attendant left. "I shouldn't be such a klutz, this is my fault."

"It's not your fault at all." he quickly interjected. "It's really no big deal, Liz."

"You know what?" Liz pushed the cup noodles aside. "I apologize, Don. I should be grateful to you but instead here I am being obnoxious and blabbering on. I mean, you've been too kind a stranger to me today; switching seats with me so I don't have to endure an entire flight with a kid kicking my seat - is he still bothering you?"

Don chuckled at Liz's adorable concerned expression. "No, he's been fine."

"Oh, that's good. And now I spill my dinner and you give me yours so I don't have to wait to order again. You're a true gentleman, Don."

He shrugged. "I'd do it for anyone."

He watched Liz's face fall, then laughed again.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I don't think I'd do it for anyone besides you. And my mom, because she'd be mad if I didn't." They both laughed, and Don found himself staring straight into Liz's blue eyes again. "Besides, us agents got to have each others' backs, whether we know each other or not. Isn't that right, Agent Keen?"

Liz laughed, ( _god_ , she looked so cute when she laughed) and said, "That's right, Agent Ressler."

"Good. So then stop apologizing and let's enjoy our meals."

Soon enough (after ten minutes), the flight attendant arrived with the noodles and Don finished it within five minutes.

Don watched as Liz opened up the window and noticed that it was dark outside. Glancing at his watch that had been timing the flight since it lifted off (Don liked to time his flights, it was a habit of his), then realized that they were halfway through the flight. _And halfway more to go._

He told Liz this, who simply smiled and said, "Time flies when you're sort of having fun."

Don grinned to himself. _Or when you have travel companions as sweet at Liz Keen._

* * *

 **A/N: I'm extremely clumsy as well and have had this happen to me one too many times.**


	6. Hour Five

Hour Five

* * *

"Hey, do you know if there's wifi onboard?"

They were more than halfway into the flight and Liz had to admit she was feeling withdrawal from her phone. As bad as it was, she had been on her phone for the majority of the week that she had spent with her friend, and was basically addicted to all those games she had previously downloaded and then recently started to play. And now, even though she was having a perfectly good flight she wanted badly to get online and start her games again.

"No, I don't believe so. Why, you need more lives on Candy Crush?" Don smirked, flipping through the duty-free in-flight store magazine.

" _No._ Besides, that app's old and nobody I know even plays that anymore. Unless, of course, you still do." She was smiling slightly, amused.

Don shrugged with a grin, putting down the magazine. "What can I say, I'm outdated."

Liz laughed, putting her phone back into her jacket pocket. _He was so much fun to talk with._ "I don't think you're outdated. I just don't think you're one for change."

He tilted his head thoughtfully, focused solely on her now. "What do you mean?"

"Oh. Well, um, I mean," Liz started again, taken aback back Don's sudden interest in her lighthearted comment that was not meant to be taken seriously. "For starters, you have an iPhone 5c and that was from when. . . like 2013." She nodded at Don's iPhone which was sitting on the tray in front of him.

"Well who knows," he raised an eyebrow as he tapped his iPhone absentmindedly, playfully challenging her. "Maybe _you're_ just too _in_ -dated."

Liz snorted unceremoniously, leaning against the headrest facing Don. "Is that even a word?" Their banter was amusing and she didn't want it to end.

"Probably not. But if it were, it would be just the word to describe you. In fact, how good are you with old games?"

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"I mean," at that moment Don grabbed his phone from the tray and held it proudly in his left hand. "how good are you with Candy Crush?"

Liz raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Are you seriously challenging me to Candy Crush, Don?" _Is he actually challenging me?_

He smirked. "What if I am?"

"Oh. Alright then, you're on." Liz whipped her phone out again, swiftly typing in her password like it was second nature.

"I bet that you're a pro on all the latest games, but are you a master of the art of Candy Crush?" Don raised an eyebrow teasingly."Can you beat _the_ Donald Ressler, the _real_ master of Candy Crush?"

"I think I can." Liz tapped on the icon then waited for it to load, and turned around to face Don, who was smiling confidently. "You'd be surprised at all the games I can play. I can even tell you all my high scores."

"Jack of all trades, master of none." Don mumbled under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." he dismissed it flippantly, and Liz giggled. "I'm just surprised that an FBI agent has so much time on her hands to become an gaming expert."

"I could say the same thing about you." she retorted with a sly smile.

"Touché. You got me." he lifted his hands up in defeat, shaking his head. "Let me just say that that why I don't have much of a social life outside of work."

"I can tell." She didn't mind stirring the pot. This was too funny.

"Shots fired, Liz. Now let's focus on the game before you roast me so much you burn me." Don laughed, reaching over Liz to shut the window and raising an arm to switch on the overhead lights.

Liz shook her head bashfully. _He's so dorky it's adorable_.

"Delete all your previous data, I just did - _no_ exceptions, this has to be fair." he added, noticing Liz's objective expression. "If you're that good at this game you'll earn back those highscores again. But since there's no internet connection, you can't ask your Facebook friends for lives."

Liz grumbled without bothering to object, clearing the app with one click of the button. _Goodbye, highscores. . ._ But then again, even though it had been a while since she last played the game, she had always been so good at it she was sure it would be easy to get the hang of it again and beat Don easily.

 _You got this._

"Done?" Don raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." she responded positively, holding her phone up so Don could see.

"Alrighty then." He flexed out his right arm out then held his phone with both hands. "Are you ready for this, Keen?"

She leaned in closer, smirking. "I was born ready, Ressler."

He smirked back. "Then let's do this. First one to unlock the first two episodes is the true champion of Candy Crush. Bonus points if you can score three stars. Three. . . two. . . one. . . _begin_."

And with that they were off, swiping madly from the left to the right and up and down, trying to score as many points and combinations as they possibly could.

If she were doing this with anyone or anywhere else Liz would have scoffed in spite of herself because this was such a silly, childish thing to do, but right now, the spontaniety of it all; doing it with her seat mate on a plane who she barely knew but _felt_ like she knew all her life, it made it all okay.

So she didn't stop once to question it.

Glancing over at Don seven minutes in while swiping into a combination of three red jelly beans, who was completely fixed on his screen, she remarked that he had already made it into the second episode/level.

Noticing her gaze, he looked up at her and grinned, and she felt that giddy feeling in her stomach again. _Damn it, focus! Don't let his good looks deceive you._

But before she knew it, Don exclaimed "Finished! Read it and weep, Liz." He turned his phone to show Liz his score. "I even hit the one-million mark."

Liz squinted to see the screen in the dark plane better. And sure enough, it read 1,020,000 points.

He beat her by 500,000 points. Of course he did. _How is that even possible-_

"Are you sure you didn't glitch it to say that?" Liz asked doubtfully, trying to hide her growing smile.

"No, I'm just amazing. Face it, Keen, you just got served." he gloated, switching the overhead light off with one last smirk. "By the renowned master of Candy Crush."

Liz nodded slowly, carefully planning what to say next. "Alright, _Master Candy Crush_ , you got me. . . but then I guess you haven't seen me play Crossy Road just yet. Are you up for that challenge?"

The light turned on again and Liz smiled to herself. _Here we go again_.

* * *

 **A/N: I am SO sorry not updating in a while, I will definitely try to update on a more regular basis from now on, especially since season 3 is premiering in three days (THREE DAYS!). But thank you as always for reading, I appreciate it! (and I don't own Candy Crush, e.t.c.)**


	7. Hour Six

Hour Six

* * *

Don yawned and pinched the bridge of his nose, craning his neck to get a better view of the aisles and trying to catch a glimpse of his brunette seat mate. It had already been ten minutes since she had gotten up to the restroom so she could brush her teeth ("I'm pretty high-maintenance." Liz had told him earlier. "It's absolutely disgusting when people don't take showers or brush their teeth, I can't _stand_ it." Don was like that in a way as well, but he hadn't brushed his teeth yet, and should probably do that soon) and she still had not returned. _Where is she?_

And although they were on a plane (which was an arguably safe place to be, although Don could certainly beg to differ), he couldn't help but start to worry about her, if she was alright.

 _Maybe I'm just worrying too much. She's probably fine, I shouldn't be concerned._

 _Concerned for who? A stranger?_

Don scoffed in spite of himself, leaning back against the headrest. His morality was getting the best of him, but to be completely honest, he didn't really care.

And now he found himself wondering what would happen after the flight, when they landed. Would they even see each other ever again? True, they were both FBI agents based in D.C., but it still wasn't a sure thing that they'd be working with each other any time soon.

 _Should I get her number?_ Don contemplated to himself. _Or would that just be wrong? Technically speaking, we_ are _in a way somewhat colleagues who work for the same group of people._

But his thoughts were interrupted by Liz, who had finally returned and was standing in the aisle, looking weary.

"Hey, sorry. The line was long." she explained briefly as Don got up to let her in to her seat.

"No worries. I was just wondering was taking you so long. Glad you're fine though." he answered, sitting back down and turning off the overhead light, which was still left switched on from their Candy Crush/Crossy Road 'tournament' (alright, after that Don _will_ admit that today had been the most fun he'd ever had on a plane before).

Liz shuddered while getting settled in. "Those washrooms are horrible. Believe me, I wouldn't have gone if I didn't have to, but I just can't bear to not brush my teeth. It's disgusting if you don't."

"Yeah, planes are horrible." he brought up that same point once again.

They both sat there quietly, deep in their own respective thoughts.

"Ugh." Liz randomly broke the silence, looking out of the window. "Talk about a pretty bad case of cabin fever."

"Yep."

It was then that Don noticed that their conversation was going nowhere, and they were clearly getting quite bored. He glanced over at Liz, who had her legs tucked to her chest and was looking up with a blank face, and concluded that she would probably agree.

So then he had an idea.

"Come on, Liz." Don said, standing up and stretching his arms.

She turned her head to face him, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness of the middle of the cabin. "What?"

"Come on, as in get up, let's take a walk." He leaned against the seat and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

Liz scoffed in disbelief. "You're joking."

"I'm not. I swear, I'll even leave now without you. I don't care how tired you are, we're going."

"Go ahead." she was making a grumpy face, which was totally adorable and was making him laugh.

"Liz, come on. Maybe by then you'll be so tired out you'll be able to sleep. Plus I hear if you sit too long your circulation can get cut off." He looked at her expectantly (and the fact about your circulation getting cut off was one-hundred percent real; Don read it in the safety card just before takeoff).

She took one last irritated look at her surroundings and then finally sat up. "Fine. But if the plane starts shaking if we pass through some clouds or something, we're going back immediately."

"Alright, alright." he snickered, helping her out of the small confined space.

She brushed herself off, and then stood facing Don, hands on her hips as if waiting for further direction. "Okay. Where do we go now, Agent? Let's see, do you want to check out the galley in the back and try some of their gourmet food. Or maybe we can even pay a visit to the front of the plane, how _exciting_!"

It took everything he had to not laugh at her sass and sarcasm, especially with how her hand was perched on her hip, and her raised eyebrows, and those blue eyes. . .

 _Snap out of it, Don,_ he stopped himself before he could get lost in those beautiful blue eyes again. _Focus._

"Follow me." he said, pretending to act cocky as he strode forward down the aisle, Liz right behind him.

"This is the dumbest idea you've come up with so far, Don." Liz said, although there was a hint of jest in her voice. "And in the course of the six hours I've known you and we've been on this plane, you've had a lot."

Don just laughed.

It was tricky, Don would admit, to walk through the aisle without stepping on someone's foot or bumping into their seat, and he was sure that he had stepped on maybe at least five outstretched legs by the time they had reached the galley in the front of the plane.

"Sometimes I wish that people would have some decency and tuck their bags away from the aisle," Liz huffed, catching up to Don by the galley.

Just then two flight attendants walked by and nearly rolled their cart stocked up with food right over Liz and Don's feet.

"And that flight attendants were a little bit more aware of their surroundings." she added under her breath. "I told you this wasn't a good idea."

"Well would you rather be cramped up back in our seats as that kid would kick the back of your seat?" Don challenged mischeviously as they continued to carefully weave their way through the aisle.

Liz tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Point taken."

After lingering in the front of the plane for a little while they decided to go back up to their seats except take the long way round on the other side of the plane (to Liz's annoyance, of course).

They walked in silence, except for the occasional grunt or sigh that came from Liz , who became especially fired out after a teenage boy purpously stuck his foot out into the aisle and nearly tripped Liz, who was doing her best to walk at a brisk pace through the tiny aisle.

When they had reached the back of the plane Liz sighed in relief and was just about to approach the flight attendants for some ice cream ("I'm hungry, alright?" she had grumbled) when the entire plane suddenly swerved to the left, causing Liz to be practically thrown against Don, grabbing his arms for balance on impulse while pushing him against the wall, their faces incredibly close.

Just then a father and his young daughter entered the galley, and then quickly backtracked out of there just as fast as they had come in, earning both Liz and Don a disapproving stare from the father.

It took them both more than a second to register (especially Liz, it seemed, as she had stayed pressed up against Don for a while) what it looked like they were doing.

"Oh. Wow, um, sorry." Liz slowly took her hands off of his arms and removed herself from him, embarrassed and bashful.

Don's face grew red and bashful, knowing that an extremely attractive woman had just been pushed up against him, _literally_ , and hoped that she wouldn't notice how he had sort of. . . _enjoyed_ it.

 _Well, that was something. . ._

They awkwardly avoided each other's glances just as the plane made a sudden jolt to the right, and Liz was wiser this time to lean against the wall itself for support.

" _Sorry to interrupt folks, we are encountering some minor turbulence. . ."_ the captain announced over the P.A.

 _No kidding._

"Well, uh, we should probably head back to our seats now, before it happens again." Liz said, trying to hide her grin but failing.

"Yeah." Don agreed absentmindedly, following Liz back down the aisle and to their seats (this time without tripping over anything), his heart still beating faster than it should.

"That was quite a walk. And quite some turbulence." _And I don't think we'll be doing that again._ Don said shyly, sneaking a look at Liz, who just smiled with a raise of the eyebrow.

"I'll say."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks as always for the follows/favorites/reviews! Only three more chapters left to go!**


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